


to the beat electric

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Trans Han Solo, Trans Male Character, you heard me. hes trans folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Han felt right in the way it rolled off his tongue, clumsy yet perfect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey hi i wrote this for trans day of visibility!!! happy tdov to all my fellow trans ppl and i hope ur all having a good day ily  
> also im dedicating this to the fucker on vent who told me that bc han had a kid in canon he was canonically cis and that i cant "take cis ppls characters" and to "get my own trans characters" love u buddy (^:

It was when Han was twelve years old when he finally,  _finally_ managed to get his damn identity in order. Or at least, began to get it in order. It was when he was twelve years old when things clicked into place, when the reason why he felt uncomfortable in his own skin became clear to him,  when everything just finally made sense for once. It was when he twelve years old when he began the process of  _knowing_ himself.

When he was thirteen years old, he had tested out a lot of names for himself, rolling them over his tongue. None had really felt right. Except for one. Han felt right in the way it rolled off his tongue, clumsy yet perfect. That was him. He was Han. His name was Han.

It was when he was the ripe age of fifteen years old when he managed to hassle a binder into his possession. It was slightly too small, which he figured wasn't the entirely safest thing to be wearing, but he also figured that it would be a lot better than ACE bandages, and besides-- It was a  _binder._ And he had managed to get it without his family taking any notice, and to him, that was a win.

When he was nineteen years old, he was finally cleared for top surgery. He had tried to when he was eighteen years old, only to be shot down by his family-- But that was okay. He wasn't with his family, was he? Not anymore. And thus he bolted for the nearest person qualified to give the surgery, having saved up for this moment for what felt like ages, and two weeks later, he was officially flat-chested.

When he was twenty years old, he had saved a Wookiee's life. And of course, said Wookiee had decided that he was now in a life-debt. Telling Chewbacca had been awkward, but necessary-- If the walking carpet was going to stick around his entire life, then he might as well know the scoop. But much to his relief, the Wookiee simply didn't care. Gender norms weren't really the same on Kashyyk, apparently. Fine by him.

When he was twenty nine years old, Han fell in love.

He could flirt all he wanted with the hotheaded princess he had picked up from the Death Star, and some days it almost seemed that she was flirting back, in her weird sort of way-- But anybody with half a brain could easily see that it was the shorter, slightly snarky, full-of-life man that went by the name of Luke Skywalker that had truly caught his eye. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months that he assured Chewbacca that he was going to get off of Hoth and they'd be back to normal only to spend his hours trying to keep the kid from ending up dead because he was such a  _handful._ He had been, too, at his age.

When he was thirty three years old, that man was still shorter, maybe a little less snarky, still full-of-life. And Han was still in love, despite his momentary fling with the guy's twin sister. What a time that had been, but surprisingly, he managed to still be on good terms with her. What differed from when he was twenty nine, however, was that the war was over. And Luke was a big fancy Jedi, and he had so much weight on his shoulders but still managed to be happy and soothing. 

More importantly, Luke was now his boyfriend. Maybe a tiny bit more importantly, he still, after all these years, had not let Luke know that he didn't exactly have a penis.

"Luke," He mumbled out as he sat down on the couch in their shared house which they had bought a year after the war. It had felt disgustingly domestic after everything that had happened, and it continued to feel domestic as fuck. Not that he was complaining. Luke sat down beside him, soft blue eyes twinkling in the light provided by a lamp on a stand near the couch, curious and gentle.

Han bit his lip. Chewed on it for a second before letting it slip free. "Luke, I'm trans," He blurted out, then sighed. Watched as it sunk into Luke's mind, watched as those curious eyes hinted at shock and dragged over his form, which had turned masculine over the years of taking testosterone and running across the fucking galaxy and how could he have known, how could he have just told Luke like that as if it was a casual thing, how could--

"Okay," Luke's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he gave a grin-- Wide and supportive. Han felt lean but strong arms curl over his shoulders, pull him close to where his face was rested neatly against his covered collarbone. "I don't care. You're my boyfriend, right? I don't care." He murmured with a shrug, and Han gave a shaky laugh as tears of joy sprung to his eyes. He shook his head as his boyfriend, his lovely, lovely boyfriend called him a "fucking goober" for crying.

Years went by. And he was okay, and he was a man. When he was fifty years old, Han Skywalker crawled into bed with his husband, felt lean arms snake around his torso and a grin stretch over his face. "Hey, pretty boy," Luke purred quietly, resting his cheek to Han's shoulder. And Han just grinned in response. He was Han Skywalker, loving husband of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. And he was a man.


End file.
